


Year Two

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a difference between just moving on, and a new start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bsafemydeers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bsafemydeers/gifts).



> The importance of being Selphie; Selphie/Squall please-- maybe exploring how they might help each other grow and mature; bonus love for Selphie in a major leadership position (running Trabia's rebuilding efforts, maybe?)

It didn't matter that there were no stars, because the snow reflected the lights back in a cascade of dancing refractions. Just like she knew it would. Just like she'd been counting on. Who needed stars really, when you had the ground beneath your feet, and the home you had built for yourself? 

One year ago the snow she was standing in had been black. Ash and gasoline and Hyne knows what else ground into the white. 

But now. Now the sky is alight with fireworks, color flashing over new snow and smiling faces. 

"I still don't understand why this required the diversion of fifteen percent of your monthly budget, for two months." She turned and saw exactly what she'd expected: the commander of Balamb Garden, fully decked out in formal uniform and medals, carrying a box of sound equipment just because that was what she'd asked him to do."Or why I had to be here." 

"Oh come on, you know exactly why!" She hopped up onto the still dark stage so she could hoist the box up when he handed it to her. He climbed up next to her, and returned her playful arm-punch greeting with a nod of the head and a smirk that wasn't actually all that sarcastic. "Balamb might be funding the reconstruction, but after everything don't you think friendship between the Gardens is the most important thing? When the students see you here, they know the bond between Gardens is really strong!" 

"I'd think the financial support alone would prove that sufficiently."

"You would." She agreed. "But it's different. It matters that you're here, so, thank you. Again."

"I'd have come anyway."

"You get bored without me don't you?" She teased. 

"No. I just don't have time to run the Events Committee. Someone needs to plan our festival or there'll be riots."

"Tear the school to pieces I bet.Don't worry, I have everything printed out for you."

"Exactly. I am not handling the paperwork if the students start a revolution over it." As if no result could be more obvious, and he had a contingency in mind already.

"Psh, you'd love that. Paperwork is like your favorite thing ever."

He just shook his head, looking back out over the crowd down the hill. When the missiles had hit, it was hard to think there'd ever be laughter here again. But now it bubbled up in waves. Leave that to Selphie. She was the least utilitarian, the least pragmatic possible choice to lead the reconstruction.

He never once questioned her request for leave to do exactly that. 

"You're going to miss your own party."

"Nope. I'll be right in the middle of it once the concert starts. Besides, check out this view. Best fireworks ever!" 

Watching her watch them in the quiet seconds before she decided it was time to get back to work, he had to agree.   
_

Some people probably would have thought it was macabre, celebrating on the anniversary of the tragedy. Squall had reminded her of exactly as much when she'd first come into his office, two months earlier, her proposed expenditure plans for the next several weeks in hand. 

"Selphie, I'm not going to cut your funding or anything if you do it, it's your project. But rebuilding connections with T-Garden's old clients is more important. This money would be better spent on reminding the world that you're once again fully operational. If Balamb was just on it's own feet again, I don't think anyone would want to remember that.."

It wasn't that she wanted to remind anyone. She didn't want to think about it at all. That was the entire point. A party. A huge celebration, bigger than the festival. Her school and her home had a graveyard behind it. Nobody needed to be reminded of death. They needed to be reminded of life. 

When she'd left Trabia the first time to help save time itself, they had finally identified all of the bodies, finally recalled everyone who had been deployed at the time of the strike, finally gotten a proper shelter set up for the survivors. 

When she'd returned to rebuild in earnest, they'd had electricity again, and running water, and with the last of the money they had on their own, the walls were starting to rise where there had only been rubble. 

When she'd left Trabia two days before to visit her official Garden, the building had finally been whole. If you wanted to, you could ignore the graveyard, and you wouldn't be able to tell that anything had ever happened. 

But it had happened. Life wasn't the same. The SeeDs and the students couldn't go out to work with death, and then come home to death too. 

To her immense surprise, Squall took a particular interest in the planning.

She decided, eventually, they would have the party. They would just have it the day after. 

A new year, and a new life for everyone.  
_

At exactly 1am, after two hours of the most uproariously ridiculous and patently enjoyable performance Squall had ever seen, and Selphie had ever given, she lept off the outdoor stage, disappearing briefly into the dissipating crowd, before reappearing next to the commander just as suddenly, electric guitar still in tow. The whole grounds still echoed with the last chords of music, and the excited murmuring of the crowd, and she was glowing.

She had wanted to start over. And now, surrounded by the faces of friends old and new, her own flushed with exhilaration, she knew she'd pulled it off. 

Trabia would be a home again. A school. A family. It had permission now, and the halls already felt different. Had felt warm again as soon as rumors of the day had started to spread. The positive buzz had spread and grown for weeks, all building up to tonight, where it had, in her opinion, erupted into a perfect crescendo.

"So, what did you think? Wasn't it awesome? Ooooh man oh man I am so happy all of the effects worked did you see everyone's faces when the pyrotechnics kicked in? You know what, it was awesome. You know it was awesome!"

"It was." He handed her a bottle of water, and when she finished that, the soda he'd been saving. It hadn't actually been easy to rescue her favorite, but it was worth it for the full body cheer it earned him. Around them, with curfew imminent, the students were trickling back towards their dormitories in cheerful, relaxed streams. "Look at them."

"I know right? I haven't seen everyone so happy in forever!" Squall nodded. She was right. The whole thing had gone over much better than expected, and he had to concede, probably also much better than his methods.

Because only Selphie knew how to make hope out of nothing. She had done it for him during the war.

When she takes his hand and drags him towards where chairs and tables are being stacked away, already eager to enter the fray again, he lets her. She can't see it, but for once, he's smiling almost as brightly as she is.

When he follows her, and she can feel the warmth of his hand under the leather of his gloves, she knows that she'll never run out of hope to give.


End file.
